Scars
by ArtistKurai
Summary: Sam and Dean are taking a break after Adam's death to grieve and recover. While relaxing at the beach, Sam gets a few stares from people, and they're all zeroing in on the fresh scars on the insides of his wrists. Thankfully, Dean's there to remind him what really matters. Takes place after 4x19 Jump the Shark.


A/N: The idea for this came to me when I looked at the surgery scar I have on the back of my leg. I imagined myself at the beach and someone noticing it and asking me about it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I only own the scar on my leg and the idea for this story.

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The summer-like heat warmed the humid beach air and blew through Sam Winchester's chestnut locks, drying out the salt-coated strands and causing them to stiffen. Because it was the middle of the week at the end of April, the beach was nearly deserted, for which Sam was immensely grateful. After the week he'd had, it was time for a rest. So, after they'd given their newly-discovered brother the burial he deserved, they decided it was time for a mini vacation, and they'd chosen the warm, sunny beaches of Florida. The sand and sea were totally worth the near wrestling match it took to get Dean into those swim trunks Sam had bought him. 

"Hey, Sammy," Dean's voice broke through the younger brother's thoughts. "Go get us some food. I'm starving." 

"Sure, Dean," said Sam sarcastically. "Because we only ate lunch an hour and a half ago." 

"And we spent that half hour in the ocean over there trying to drown each other," argued Dean. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll even pay for it." 

"Dude, that's not a fair compromise," protested Sam. "It's not 'your' money; it's all our money." 

"Well, in that case, you can pay for it all," said Dean. Sam just rolled his eyes. There wasn't any real heat in his big brother's tone. 

"Fine, I'll go get you food," the younger of the two finally relented. "I assume you want pie?" Dean gave him a smirk and a wink as his answer. "Be back in a little bit." 

As he walked down the beach to the seaside store, Sam kept feeling eyes on him. Being a trained hunter, the constant looks made him very wary. However, because he was a trained hunter, Sam kept his poker face and didn't make his discomfort known. It was a relief when he finally entered the cool store and the doors closed on the appraising eyes. Picking up a basket, Sam carefully eased the handle to the crook of his elbow. The deep gashes the ghouls had inflicted had barely begun to heal, and he didn't want to aggravate the tender flesh if he could help it. 

Finding pie was easy. Even though it was a beach store, they still sold just about every kind of snack food one could think of. Getting drinks wasn't difficult either, as Sam decided to just get water for himself and Dean. "If he wants something different, he can get it himself," Sam reasoned. As he reached for the cooler door, however, the feeling of being watched increased exponentially. Looking to his left, the hunter found a young woman staring at his hand in unmasked shock. 

Initially, Sam returned her expression with one of confusion. "What is she stari-" A glance at his own hand drew his eyes to the long row of stitches that spanned the entire length of his forearm, and realization set in. "Oh." With a reddening face, Sam grabbed a few water bottles and quickly went to another part of the store where fresh fruit was on display. 

Pleased to find an apple stand, the young man selected a few and dropped them into his basket with the drinks and pie. Unfortunately, he also found an older man, probably about the same age his father would be, staring at him. "At least he's not outright shocked," thought Sam as the man eyed his wrists, "though I think I would prefer that to the barely-disguised pity this man's giving me." With a polite nod, Sam turned away to go check out. 

When he reached the register and set down his basket, the middle aged woman behind the counter eyed his scars before looking up at his face. "Oh crap..." thought Sam. This woman had an annoying look of pity mixed with understanding. "I'd rather go back to the shocked girl." 

"Honey, this world really isn't so bad," the cashier said with a sad smile. "I'm glad you're still here to enjoy the goodness of life a little longer." When he looked away from the older woman, his eyes were drawn back to his wounds. 

"Yeah," he said shakily as he handed over a $20. "My-my brother got to me in time." 

"Good," said the woman shamelessly. "Please don't ever consider something so tragic again. There's always a better solution." 

"Thank you," replied Sam in a choked whisper. He took his bags and left as quickly as his long legs could carry him. 

The whole walk back to Dean was plagued with memories. Lying strapped down to the table. Long, deep gashes draining his life into two large bowls by monsters that had taken on the form of his brother and his mom, his family. The fear he felt when he didn't think Dean would be able to save him from exsanguination. The grief at discovering he had a younger brother, only for that brother to die before they could even really meet. 

"Winchester luck," Sam spat bitterly as he tried to hold back the tears. When he reached his brother, he dropped the bag unceremoniously onto the older man's lap. "Got your pie," he mumbled softly before turning to walk towards the water. 

Dean's Sam radar immediately picked up on his brother's mood change. "Sam, what's wrong?" he asked. 

"Nothing," said Sam unconvincingly without stopping. 

"Hold on, Sammy," called Dean as he jumped up to catch up with his baby brother. "Sam, what's bothering you? You were fine before you went to the store." 

"It's nothing, Dean," Sam tried to assure his brother, but his tone screamed not fine. 

"It's not nothing, Sam," argued Dean. "If it were nothing, you would have told me about it already. So, come on," he softened his tone for his brother's sake, "what's bothering you?" 

The hurt from before came back to Sam's expression with a vengeance, and tears started trying to well in his eyes. "It's these scars," he confessed in a whisper. Dean looked down at his little brother's arms, at the row of black stitches holding together red skin. He had to admit that, though they were much better than a few days ago, the cuts still looked pretty gruesome. "I got so many stares while I was walking to the store, and it was even worse when I got in there. The cashier told me she was glad I survived and begged me to never consider suicide again. They thought I'd attempted suicide, Dean!" 

By now, the tears he'd been trying to hold back won their fight and trailed down Sam's cheeks. The pain of losing their brother had been weighing on both Winchesters, but the shameless and judgmental looks he'd gotten were enough to make the younger one finally crack. 

In an uncharacteristic display of affection, Dean raised his arms and pulled his hurting brother into a hug. "It's okay, little brother," he said soothingly into Sam's ear as Sam dropped his chin to Dean's shoulder. "It's alright. Don't worry about those idiots. They don't know anything." Pulling back, Dean dropped his arms and carefully grasped Sam's wrists, turning them so Sam could see his scars. "You didn't do this to yourself. Two monsters did this to you, both of which are dead now. You survived it, and you're gonna get past it completely. You don't have to worry about it anymore." 

Sam nodded jerkily. "I know, Dean, you're right. It's just when people look at me like that... It's like I'm a kid all over again. The freak new student that'll never be normal." 

"Well, we all know you'll never be normal, Sammy," joked Dean, hoping to alleviate some of the tension his brother was feeling. It worked, as a small grin quirked the corners of the taller man's lips before he could stop it. "But, hey, I'll never be normal either. So how about we go be freaks together?" That earned a full smile and even a chuckle from Sam as the rest of his worries died away for the moment. "And, if you want, we could always ask Cas to heal them for you." 

Sam shook his head, his smile still lingering. "No, you're right. I don't have to make those idiots happy. You and I know the truth. That's all that matters." 

"You got that right," said Dean. "Now," the older man dropped back down onto his towel, "let me back to what's left of our mini vacation before we have to go back to work." 

"Alright, alright," Sam agreed as he reclaimed his own towel and took an apple from the plastic bag. 

"But first, give me my pie."

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A/N: Thank you, my lovely readers. As always, leave me a review please. I love to know your thoughts.


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